


From the Shadows

by AnikaDahl



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-10-28 22:20:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17795822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnikaDahl/pseuds/AnikaDahl
Summary: In a desperate attempt to save his adoptive sister, Wilson P. Higgsbury foolishly makes a deal with the King of Shadows. Everything has a price and now Wilson must learn to survive in the harsh world of the Constant. Will he manage to find his way from the shadows or will he be lost to the darkness?





	1. Chapter 1

The forest was quiet save for the gentle sounds of running water and the occasional bird. A shadowy form raced between the trees. It gave a toothy grin at the sight before them, that being a man caught in a tree by his ankle and desperately trying to untangle the vines.

“Heavens…” he tried to break loose when a familiar voice broke his concentration.

“I’ve seen hounds land better than you, scientist.” Wilson froze, staring as a tall man stepped from the cloud of shadows.

“Aw, you don’t remember me, do you? After all,” the man smirked, “I did give you the knowledge needed to help that woman you call your sister.”

“That was you?” Wilson got his ankle free and landed hard with a gasp. He scrambled to his feet, brushing himself off and removing a few sticks from his hair. “Who are you though?”

The man mockingly bowed low, “I am Maxwell, King of the Shadows and this world.”

Wilson went still.

_“From that moment on he simply went by Maxwell and tricked anyone foolish enough to make a deal with the King of Shadows.”_ The last warning his mother had ever given him echoing in his throbbing head.

“I,” Wilson stammered. “You tricked me!”

Maxwell circled the smaller man, humming in silent thought before a smirk graced his sharp features. “You wanted the knowledge to save that woman yet never considered the price, how naïve. You must be a pretty pathetic scientist,” he chuckled. “You didn’t even consider the truth in those stories you mother once told you."

Wilson paled.

_“Wilson...visit Gwenie tomorrow won’t you? She seems to do better with you around.”_

_“I promise I’ll visit the moment I’m done setting up the shop.”_

“I gave you Dark Knowledge and now it is time for you to pay the price.”

“No…” He had to check on his foster sister. He still needed to give her the medicine Wilson had foolishly made a deal for!

“Perhaps you will find there is more to learn here.” Maxwell held out a bag, “for now this will be enough for you to survive the night. They demanded I give it to you.”

Wilson cautiously took the bag and picked inside. There was a torch, some berries and what appeared to be a bedroll. “They? What do you mean by that?”

Maxwell scoffed, turning his back to the man. “The moon will be rising soon which means...Charlie will be waking up soon.”

“Charlie?” Wilson frowned as he slung on the bag.

“Stay in the light and you will avoid her. Stay in the dark and you will surely die. Good luck.”

“Wait!” Wilson called out as he watched Maxwell vanished. “Brilliant. Simply brilliant! I had one task and now I’ll be lucky to get back to Gwenevere in time.” He sighed, “no use standing here…”

Wilson wandered for a while, following a path he found until it led to nothing but bushes full of berries. Examining one, he popped one in his mouth and made a face. “Heavens above! Sour little buggers, aren’t you? Guess I’ll only take the larger ones and leave the smaller ones for later.” He stashed most of them with the others before moving on.

“Heavens…what have I done?” Wilson kicked a pebble away, “I hope Gwenevere is doing alright.” He placed his hands into the pockets of his trousers. Wilson looked surprised when he pulled out a neatly wrapped present the size of a newborn’s fist. There was a graceful G written in silver ink on the crimson paper. Upon opening it, he found a small handmade necklace. A small piece of labradorite hung from a leather cord and a rune for protection was carefully painted on the stone.

“Always one for the superstition weren’t you Gwen?” Wilson chuckled but hung the stone around his neck before tucking it under his shirt. The note looked old compared to the new paper she used for letters.

He carefully read the note inside:

_Wilbook,_

_I hope this finds you in good health big brother! It seems like years have passed since you’ve left for London to help Marion open that shop…clinic...thing. Is everything going as planned? Mum and Pa send their warmest regards too. Pa won’t admit it but he misses you helping in the bakery. Mum misses when you would play the violin for everyone too. I thought you would like this considering the anniversary of your mother’s death is coming up. I pray that it reminds you of how proud everyone is of you. Please do not lose your way on this path Wilson. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for._

_With love,_

_Gwenevere O’Neil_

Wilson placed the note back inside the box then into a safe spot in the backpack. He was about to stand when the berry bushes before him started to rustle. “Hello?” He pulled away the branches to find what appeared to be an eyeless dog.

The creature was munching happily away on a bone before noticing Wilson. It tilted it’s head, “rarf?”

“Hello there,” Wilson knelt down before the creature. “I haven’t been here long but I don’t think I’ve seen anything like you before. All alone?”

The creature quickly abandoned his bone to happily bounce into Wilson’s lap. “Rarf!”

Wilson laughed, “heavens above! Hyper little ball of fur, are we?” He watched the creature bounce around, barking before standing up again. He paused when the creature offered him the bone he had been chewing on. “You…want me to hold this?”

The creature nodded before bouncing around again. Wilson carefully placed the eye bone in his backpack. “Well then, I suppose you’ll need a name.” The creature nudged his leg before sticking out its tongue where a little card rested.

Wilson blinked away shock. “Well…that’s a new one.” He took the card and read, “Otto Von Chesterfield, Esquire…and I thought my name was a mouthful. No offense. How about Chester?”

Chester quickly lapped up the card, “rarf! Rarf!”

“Well, let’s move on. It seems that night will be upon us quickly and I’d rather not find out who this Charlie is.”

Chester let a low growl at the name before hovering next to Wilson's feet.

They walked for a while, Wilson taking note of the strange world around him and occasionally pausing to observe a creature. Chester practically shoving Wilson forward when a hostile creature looked in their direction.

Finally, they found a small clearing amongst the trees. It was quiet other than the occasional bird and the sound of moving water. Wilson circled the area a few times before sighing happily.

“This might be good for a base. What do you think Chester?”

Chester bounced over to a group of wildflowers and rolled around, purring.

Wilson couldn't help but laugh. _For a firepit, I'll need stone, wood logs, some grass_...he paused. _Then I'll need cut stone, gold_... “Odd...I don't recall ever learning those blueprints.” Wilson glanced down to see Chester watching him intently, “I wonder what it must do.”

_It’s called a Science Machine you bloody idiot_. A voice hissed in Wilson’s ear causing him to jump.

“Who…who’s there? Show yourself!” Wilson reached for a stick, scanning the woods around them.

_Aww, what are you going to do, hit yourself?_

Wilson growled in frustration. “I said, show yourself!”

The voice sighed.

Chester hid behind Wilson when a shadowy form rose from the ground. Familiar eyes started back at Wilson. The creature before him smirked, _didn’t your mother tell you to beware the shadows?_

Wilson stepped back, readying the stick, “you…aren’t real! This is just another trick from Maxwell!”

_Don’t associate me with that madman of a king_ … The creature hissed.

“Then what in the name of science are you?”

It merely shrugged, _you know what I am._

“What is that supposed to mean?”

The creature gave a toothy grin, pointing down to Wilson's shadow. _Emma Higgsbury did love to fill your head with stories. Guess she forgot to tell her son how much truth was in them._

Upon looking down, Wilson saw that his shadow was connected to the shadow creature in front of him. Looking up again he found he was alone with Chester.

“I…” Wilson scanned the area, “maybe we should find a different area to set up base Chester.”

Chester sniffed the air before nudging Wilson’s leg in comfort.

“True, we don’t have enough time to find a new base. Alright, let’s get to work.”

_I’ll worry about what just happened later…_


	2. Come What May

_ “Wilson Percival Higgsbury! By Odin's beard, what did you do to the bread?” Elizabeth O'Neil yelped when she found the bakery full of smoke. She reached for the eight-year-old, bringing him outside to clean air. _

_ “I'm sorry mum…” Wilson gasped between coughs, “I wanted to surprise everyone but the oven door locked on me. Then Loki stole the chair and and--” his turned away as tears filled his eyes. _

_ “Oh wee lamb,” Elizabeth gingerly pulled him into her arms. “Shh love, no harm done my little prince.” _

_ “But now today's stock is ruined!” _

_ Elizabeth tucked back some of her curly strawberry blonde hair while chuckling softly, “well that's why we get up at dawn, no? We'll salvage what we can and donate what cannot be sold. A little smoke never harmed.” _

_ Wilson still didn't meet her gaze. “If I hadn't been so small…” _

_ “Wilson, look at me, love.” She carefully lifted his chin, “there is nothing wrong with you. Cast those nasty thoughts from your mind for they do not matter.” Elizabeth stood, picking him up and nuzzled him fondly, “you are my little prince and your mama's pride and joy. That's all that matters.” _

_ “Mama's proud?” Wilson whimpered. _

_ “Oh, I'm positive that your mama is looking down with the biggest smile on her face! She's probably telling Freya all about you too!” _

_ Finally, a smile lined his face. “Can you tell me another story from when you and mama were little?” _

_ “I'll tell ya all the stories you could ever want while we make bread, deal?” _

_ “Deal!”  _

_ Elizabeth nuzzled him again before calling for the large hound. “Loki, to my side!” _

_ The black wolf-like hound raced to her side in excitement before beginning to circle the two. He whimpered, blue eye watching Wilson nervously. _

_ “Loki, be still.” Elizabeth raised a brow, “your little charge is safe now. Now have I told you about the time your mama was kidnapped by my brother Skylar’s horse?” _

_ “No,” Wilson giggled as he nestled closer to Elizabeth, enjoying the scent of lavender that wrapped around her. _

Wilson felt something nudge his face. He could faintly smell fresh lavender yet opening his eyes, Chester was there instead of his adoptive mother.

“Rarf!” 

“Good morning to you to you too.” Wilson chuckled, reaching over to pet Chester. “I’m sorry did I worry you?”

Chester tugged on Wilson’s sleeve until he got annoyed and decided to push Wilson’s back.

Wilson sat up. “What has gotten into you, Chester?” He carefully pulled his friend into his lap. “I promise I was just resting.” 

_ What happened while I was resting? _ Wilson thought while calming down Chester.  _ I made certain the fire wouldn’t go out and it was only about an hour till dawn... _

“How about we go find some food and see about finding some gold alright?”

“Rarf!” Chester seemed to perk up at that idea. He began to bounce around the makeshift base in excitement.

Wilson chuckled,  _ he reminds me of Loki sometimes. _

He glanced towards the trees as a familiar shadow raced away. “Here I was hoping that was just from lack of sleep. Come along Chester, let’s go.”

oooo

 

“Stay close Chester.” Wilson glanced back when he noticed his friend paused again.

It had been a few weeks since arriving in the world. The two had been getting along rather well despite the strange shadow figure and the voice that plagued him.

Wilson rubbed his eyes; it had been yet another sleepless night.

Chester whimpered, nuzzling his leg trying to bring Wilson comfort.

_ You know...when I said “don’t go to sleep,” I only meant for that night. _

Wilson rolled his eyes as the figure floated around them. “I don’t listen to things that aren’t real.” He growled, swinging his pickaxe at the boulder before him.

The shadow sat on the boulder before Wilson could aim his next swing.  _ You should know by now that I am more than a tale told by your mother. _

“Stop talking about my mother as if you knew her. She was a writer and a historian, nothing more.” Storm grey eyes glared into amber before Wilson sighed, turning away from the shadowy form that followed his every step.

_ Wilbook, _ the shadow lost his grin,  _ I bring a warning. _

“You bring a pain in my–” Wilson began.

A scream pierced the woods, bringing Wilson to a halt.

“What in the–” Wilson paled at the familiar sounds of spiders. He had hoped they wouldn’t run into any more until he had a proper weapon.

Chester growled, racing over to the edge of the cliff.

Wilson followed to see just what was happening. Fear froze him in place at the sight of not one but three Spider Queens and their armies chasing a woman around his age. She was barely keeping ahead of them and was hurt badly.

“Marion! Wil–” she coughed, losing her step slightly, “help please!”

Wilson raced to the edge that the woman was running near. “Over here!” He reached out his hand as best he could. Chester was pulling at his leg to keep some form of balance. “Take my hand,” Wilson tried to keep the panic from his voice.

She jumped, grabbing his hand with her good arm.

_ Heavens above! She barely weighs anything! _ Wilson decided to ignore that thought as he quickly pulled her up. “Are you alright?” He asked, carefully helping her to her feet. He tried to get a good look at her but paused when he spied how her ears were pointed.

“Getting there…” she sighed, “I think I hate spiders  _ more _ now that I’m stuck here! Why are they huge?!”

Wilson chuckled, “I wish I knew. For now, I think ‘Hissing Watermelons’ is a good name for the jumping ones.”

Chester began barking as said spiders began to crawl up the short cliff.

“Do you happen to have anything that could light a torch?” Wilson quickly reached into his discarded bag for a torch.

She lit the lighter with a wicked grin, “always.”

Wilson quickly used it to light the torch and grabbed her good hand. “Good, then I suggest you light a few trees while we run!”

She yelped as she tried to keep up. “That’s what got me in this mess to begin with!”

“What in the name of science do you mean by that?” Wilson ducked under a branch, setting it ablaze shortly after. He glanced for Chester before sighing in relief at how well his friend was keeping up.

“Meaning I was trying to get charcoal and managed to annoy a Tree Guard! I stumbled into spider world by trying to escape my new tree friend!”

“You really aren’t having a good day huh?”

Any retort was lost to the sudden coughing fit.

Wilson spied the river that separated his area to the spider’s land. “Just a little further I promise.”

Chester bounced quickly across the well placed stones and waited patiently for the two. He sniffed at the woman’s face when she fell to her knees, gasping for air.

“Try to slow your breathing,” Wilson knelt beside her. “Do you have any–”

“No...I’ve just been running for my life since dawn.” She looked over to where the fires were dying out. Spiders were running away out of fear and pain. “Good riddance!”

Wilson chuckled, “if I may...you had called out for Marion. Any chance you were referring to Doctor Marion Carlson?”

Amber eyes stared at him in surprise. “Yes but how did–wait,” she paused. “I know that hair...Wilson? Wilson Higgsbury?”

“Yes? Wilson Percival Higgsbury...at your service Miss?” Wilson raised a brow. She sounded familiar but he was positive he could remember someone with such strange markings on their face.

She looked hurt. “Wilson it’s me! Willow Everlight,” she pushed back her dark hair, “I sold flowers in front of the church every day from morning to midday and then we would have lunch together with Marion. You even brought me chocolates and would play the violin for us!”

Wilson could only stare. After what felt like an eternity he managed to whisper, “I was told you died…”

Willow’s eyes softened, “do I look dead to you? They told me that you boys disappeared without a trace a few months ago.”

“I really want to believe you but...you have to understand that Maxwell has been enjoying playing tricks on me.” Wilson stood carefully. “No one can bring people back to life...not even that madman. I saw Willow Ranee Everlight be laid to rest.”

“Wilson, don’t you remember the day we first met?” Willow managed to stand, pain in her eyes. “You were running late to a meeting with the Board of Governors and I accidentally tripped you. You went falling into the mud and the papers for the meeting were ruined. I remember how mad you got until Marion distracted you with a new set of blueprints! They were for the music locket that I still have, by the way. Later you came back with a box of chocolates from Ireland and a book of poems that looked like it had been rebounded at least five times. Said it had belonged to an old family friend.” Willow rambled until finally, Wilson sighed.

“Then you sang the loveliest song I had heard in the longest time.” He smiled, “I’m so sorry for doubting you Willow. I suppose it doesn’t help I almost didn’t recognize you!”

“What do you mean by that?” She frowned, brushing off her skirt.

“Well um,” Wilson gently lead her to the water, “I don’t suppose you remember having these markings on your face.”

Her eyes went wide as she took in her appearance. She appeared the same other than the dark markings on her face and the sudden change to her ears. “I don’t understand...what did Maxwell do to me? This wasn’t part of the deal!” Willow began to tremble, “he said he would take me to a place where I would be free. A place where my friend was.”

“Before you ask” Wilson avoided her gaze, “I haven’t seen Marion.”

 Willow looked away.

He reached out for her hand, “Willow, I promise we will figure out what he did to you and find a way to change you back.”

“You don’t think I’m…?”

Wilson gave her a reassuring grin, “you are my friend regardless of appearance. You are still Willow the Fire Dancer.” He chuckled, “you’d be surprised by what I’m used to by growing up in the O’Neil’s home. Oddly enough this is the tamest thing yet.”

“Oh really now?” Willow humored him. “I thought they were one of the more normal families.” She knew that was a lie, the few times Willow interacted with Gwenevere, Elizabeth or Henry were some of her fondest memories. Henry had pestered her into spilling what her favorite pastry was and from that day forward had made certain he had them on hand. Willow still wasn’t sure what had happened to Wilson’s blood family but knew he had been well taken care of. Some days she found herself jealous.

Wilson grinned, “let’s get you patched up and I’ll tell you some of the things I’ve seen while living in the bakery.” He offered her an arm. “Do you happen to remember Elizabeth’s brothers, William and Skylar?”

“How could I forget them?” She giggled, “Skylar bought flowers for his sweetheart and William was the bookworm who tipped over his own feet.”

“Well, one winter we traveled to Ireland to visit grandmother Eire for the holidays. Word had traveled to Skylar that Gwenie was afraid of horses despite the bakery having one to move the cart. He decided to have his horse give her a ride around the estate…”

“Oh no,” Willow couldn’t hide her grin.

“Oh yes. The moment Skylar had Gwenie sitting in the saddle, his horse took off. All I see is Skylar chasing after his horse, screaming in some language that sounded like Gaelic and William jumping on his horse to try and snatch Gwenie before she fell. Oddly enough, Gypsy Vanner horses were known to work as one with their rider but that never stopped Skylar’s old mare from being a trickster. Grandmother Eire finally came outside, called for the horse and we all watched the mare pause before calmly bringing Gwenie over.”

“Gwenevere still afraid of horses?”

Wilson shook his head, “Grandfather Vash and Grandmother Eire took Gwenie and I out riding later on. She fell in love with Grandmother Eire’s mare, Solas.”

She smiled as Wilson went on, letting him lead her to what appeared as his base. Willow paused at the outskirt with a bewildered look. “You still stress build…”

Wilson rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled while his face flushed in embarrassment. “I suppose I still do. Building helps me think and…” he fell silent. “Let’s take a look at that wound of yours. I have some medicine that I swear my mother used to use!”

Chester nudged Willow forward when she still hesitated.

“Oh fine,” she whispered, “I won’t run away because of some medicine.”

He seemed content with that response. Chester bounced over to Wilson’s side, following him around the camp like a loyal dog.

Willow sighed. The camp was a lot more organized than hers had been but anything less wouldn’t have been the Wilson she knew. An orb caught her eye as she wandered to the fire pit. It sprung to life when she drew close, glowing softly and floating lazily off the ground.

“Not quite sure what that does yet but it was an interesting find,” Wilson called over. “The moon dial over there is actually really helpful. I remember Grandmother Eire having one in her many gardens.”

She sat next to the firepit, eyeing the bowl of medicine in Wilson’s hands.

“I know that look.” Wilson sighed, “Willow please don’t start this…”

Willow glared. “Heal yourself first.”

“There isn’t enough for both of us and I merely have a scratch compared to the hole in your arm!” He rolled his eyes, “were you this difficult with Marion?”

“Only when it involved bowls of lies.”

Wilson placed the bowl aside, showed Willow he was unarmed and took her injured arm carefully. He looked over the gash with a frown. “It’s already showing signs of infection. May I at least wash it out and bandage it for you?”

“It doesn’t even hurt anymore! See?” Willow barely bit back the pain as she poked it.

“Would cookies make you say otherwise? I’m not as great as Henry or Elizabeth but I can still make you pumpkin cookies at the very least.” He watched with a smile as her eyes lit up the same way they did whenever he surprised her with a box of chocolates or a box of Henry’s famous cookies. “I’ll make as many cookies as you want if you let me treat your wound, deal?”

Willow held out her arm in defeat. “Deal.”

Wilson didn’t dare test his luck and instead reached for the bucket of water and a clean cloth from Chester. He worked quickly and neatly, making sure to avoid too much pressure in case Willow decided to kick him like last time. Finally, he reached for the bowl of medicine. “Feel free to kick me if this stings a bit. I swear it will help.” He bit back in shock when Willow actually took him up on that joke offer.

Soon enough, Willow was looking over the neatly done bandage. “Almost as good as Marion.” She teased.

“Oh ha ha,” Wilson returned the smile. It was good to see her smiling again. When Marion had finally told him who Willow was, it broke his heart. She never showed signs of insanity or whatever it really was that got her put in that cursed asylum. In fact, Wilson vaguely remembered her parents refusing to send their daughter there in the first place!

“How are you so soft, Chester?” Willow buried her face into Chester’s fur after giving him a few good pets.

Wilson’s smile faltered a bit, he vaguely remembered being told about what the markings she now bore meant. Many of the stories he had been told by his mother were either lost or vaguely there. He stood suddenly, “I’ll go start on the cookies and maybe some stew. The moon dial is over there if you want to see what it does.”

“How did you even find a blue gem?” Willow asked, shaking out her skirts before tossing a stick for Chester to chase.

“Lucky chance in the desert.”

She took the stick and tossed it farther, careful to not aim at the Science Machine or farms. “Well, I am glad since I doubt you’d be able to fight one off a monster! They’d use you as a toothpick,” Willow grinned.

“I grew up in a bakery,” Wilson smirked over his shoulder. “Sacks of flour don’t move themselves you know.”

Willow rolled her eyes, “Marion always said you weren’t allowed move the bags of flour after the one ripped open and coated the backroom in flour.”

“That was one time and Loki bit a hole in it!”

“Uh huh,” she smirked.

Willow glanced at the dial again before deciding she’d rather stay away from it. The item seemed harmless but something about it felt familiar. She tossed the stick for Chester again, laughing at how fast he ran on such short legs. “Chester does remind me of Loki. How was that old wolf doing?”

“Hound,” Wilson absently corrected her as he brought over two bowls of food and a cloth bundle full of the promised cookies. “Loki was the same as he’s always been: trouble maker and protector of the family. I swear that dog doesn’t age!”

Willow took the bowl of stew, “thank you! You know? With how odd the O’Neil’s were I wouldn’t be too surprised to learn that none of them really aged.”

Wilson decided it was best to remain silent for once and placed the second bowl down for Chester. “Elizabeth takes amazing care of animals and Loki is the son of her mother’s old dog.” He shrugged when he sat across from her with his own bowl. He wasn’t even sure how to properly respond to the fact that Eire’s faithful companion was still alive and was actually a wolf…

“Hey, Wilbook?” Willow pulled him from his thoughts.

He reached over to add wood to the fire, “what’s on your mind?”

“Do you need any help in the camp?”

Wilson smiled, “you are welcome to stay for as long as you like.”

She reached out her hand, “come what may?”

“Come what may,” he placed his hand against hers.  _ I told you I would protect you and I don’t plan on breaking that promise again. _


	3. Stories in the Dark

Dawn was just beginning to break when Willow rolled out of the bedroll. She watched the fire dance lazily in the pit for a moment. Occasionally Wilson mumbled something and shifted in his sleep, causing Chester to do the same. He seemed intent on sleeping right next to the small of Wilson’s back. It was calm, despite the events the previous day had brought. Far more peaceful compared to her first week trapped here had been.

_ Odd that the fire is still going. _ Willow mused. She stood slowly, mindful to not disturb the two, and dusted off her skirt.  _ I know Wilbook went to sleep first and I never touched it. Almost like the candles my mum would make… _

She reached for the axe, the supply of wood was becoming dangerously low.

“Please don’t go hurting yourself more.” Wilson startled her. His back was turned to her as he spoke, “You need to rest so your arm can heal.”

“I’m fine. Honestly you and Marion baby me whenever you two had the chance!” Willow huffed but placed the tool back.

Wilson rolled over, sitting up before sighing. “Willow, Marion was a doctor and we  _ both _ know how stubborn you can be.” He shrugged, “I’m just being cautious since we don’t exactly have medicine outside the healing salve.”

Chester bounded over to her holding a stick in his mouth.

“You know Wilson,” Willow raised a brow before hurling the stick as far as she could for Chester, “I vividly recall a time where you were in such a rush that you slipped on the ice and hit your head. Marion said you were extremely lucky to be found–”

“Willow please…”

She met his stare, pausing at the sorrow in his storm-grey eyes.

“Until yesterday I was lead to believe you were dead.” Wilson stood, turning away to check a chest. “Forgive me for being protective but I…” he sighed. “Let’s just focus on getting supplies for winter.”

Willow couldn’t bring herself to meet her friend’s gaze when he turned to face her. How much pain was tied to him like a stone, threatening to drag him into darkness? She stared at the bandage.  _ The asylum made him believe I was dead. They even went as far as to bury some girl who happened to look like me. _ .. 

She felt Chester bump against her good arm before gently pulling on her skirt. “That’s not very polite.” Willow ruffled the fur on his head with a giggle.

Chester bounced to Wilson’s side, waiting calmly for a command.

“Think you could manage charcoal? I have an area where we can do a controlled burn.” Wilson offered. “I know that’s how you found your friend but hopefully they don’t stop by for a visit.”

“If they do then I’m lighting them on fire.” Willow grinned.

They walked for a while, gathering food where they could and chatted about old times. A smile played on her lips when Wilson finally laughed. She gathered a few flowers, unaware that Wilson and Chester had paused to watch.

“I suppose you are going to attempt to put a flower crown on me again?” Wilson grinned. “That didn’t work last time.”

Willow reached for another flower. “I wasted so many flowers that day. Didn’t I use lavender, some clary sage leaves...?”

“Baby’s breath.” Wilson reminded her, “you used those three a lot but then you moved on to daisies after a while since they were easier to craft with.”

“Right.” She paused. “Where is the area you want to go fwoom?”

Wilson shook his head trying hard to hide the grin. “Not too far from here. Actually right over there.”

“Why don’t we gather the charcoal from the trees we burned yesterday?”

“I figured you would want to set the world ablaze after that nightmare you had last night.”

She lit her torch. “Fair point.” 

It didn’t take much to get the fire going. Sooner than she liked, Willow was sitting nearby watching the trees burn. Wilson had wandered to her right to chop down as many trees as he could. She could barely hear him pretending the tree was Maxwell.

Willow wrapped her arms around her knees. She couldn’t shake the feeling from seeing the pain in Wilson’s eyes. He had gotten worse.

“You always talk about your adoptive family,” Willow whispered to no one in particular. “What of your blood kin? All I get out of you is that your mother wrote stories and helped Elizabeth in the bakery. When I asked about your father…” She shook her head. That topic would remain in off-limits for a very long time. She hadn’t forgotten how he flinched as if Willow struck him and nearly dropped the box of Marion’s medicals supplies. Even Marion, someone who had practically grown up with Wilson, didn’t know anything Willow hadn’t already heard.

Willow hummed a tune her mother had sung to her countless times. She reached into her backpack before pausing. A book was nestled amongst the other items. Carefully pulling it out, Willow noticed that it appeared to be far older than some of the books her father collected. It was hand bound in a dark Prussian blue leather with two silver bands against the spine. Pressed in silver on the front was a lovely intricate crescent moon.

“Codex Lunae…” she traced the faint inscription. “How did this get here?”

_ “Firelight! I told you to leave that book alone,” Bridget Everlight scolded as she snatched the book from Willow’s hands. _

_ “Why can’t I read it? Papa said it has been in the family for a long long time!” Willow whined. _

_ Bridget merely shook her head, “little Firelight you must understand...this book can bring great danger if in the wrong hands. I keep it from you in order to protect you. Now promise me you will never attempt to read the Codex Lunae again.” _

_ “I promise to never ever touch it again mama!” _

Willow glanced around as a sly grin appeared. “I mean, what could possibly go wrong with a little peak?” She flipped to the first page. Her amber eyes widened as she read quietly:

_ “Yvaine, _

 

_ Do you recall the first time we started your lessons? You had begged me to tell you why I decided to teach you how to control that endless magic of yours. I remember how brave you were upon seeing the Nightmare Creatures for the first time. You shouted that they were nothing compared to the nightmare you lived with… _

_ I do believe now is the time to finally answer your question. _

_ You are nothing short of extraordinary, my dear. There is a light inside of you that burns relentless against all odds. I have seen you walk out of situations untouched while it would drive a man to madness. You are the hope those around you need. _

_ This is your Codex to fill as you deem fit. It is a place to record events and spells for future use. More importantly… Codex Lunae is your legacy. _

_ May you soar high among the clouds and may you never stray from your path. _

 

_ Umbra.” _

 

Willow raised a brow, “so their name was Yvaine but who is Umbra?”

Page after page was filled to the brim of neat and delicate handwriting in symbols Willow hadn’t seen since her time before the asylum. Often pages were full of only illustrations, many messy and done quickly with even messier handwriting beside it. She could only think about the times she saw her mother write in this language and kept it for emergencies when they needed to communicate without unwanted eyes. Willow had attempted to teach Marion during some of the therapy sessions. He had caught on fast.

“He was tricked.” Willow held the book closer to read a bit of smudged ink, “do not trust him. Something is wrong with Um…” she sighed. “Gee thanks Yvaine! Why not dump an entire bottle of ink next time.” She flipped the page, “heaven above...I was kidding!”

“Willow,” Wilson sat down beside her, “who on earth are you talking to?”

Not thinking, she held up the book to show the pages had been covered in black ink. “The author of this book got careless as the book went on.”

He raised a brow, “may I have a look?”

“Have at it. Most of it is just notes and memories.” Willow handed over the book. “Were you helpful Chester?” She laughed when Chester nearly knocked her over in excitement.

Wilson examined the pages. Nothing made sense save for the illustrations of the creatures they had already seen. Occasionally something formed a word but nothing more than that. He scanned the pages again, biting his lip and starting to softly hum.

“You uh you okay over there?” Willow gently nudged his shoulder. “Wilson you have read through it about five times already. Slow down and breathe.”

He sighed, handing the book back. “Willow it’s written in a language I haven’t seen before.”

“It’s the Codex Lunae; I was told it was written in a language of old. My mum and papa taught it to me when I was a little girl. The book was always kept far away from me though. Mum always said it would bring great danger if in the wrong hands. Yvaine–”

“Shadowlings.” Wilson whispered to himself.

“What?”

“My mother used to write about a group of people known as Shadowlings or Shadow Folk, depending on her mood, and they had a language similar to the one in that book.”

Willow flipped to a page and scanned the writing. “The beings who inhabit the Constant are known as Shadowlings or Shadow Folk. Valishiliwen and I have yet to find out more about this race as Lux and Umbra refuse to let us visit for long. On a few of our visits, we have spotted what appeared to be a village protected by a glamor spell. The markings on the Shadowlings’ face are common but some have chosen to hide their marks and pointed ears. There is a slight difference in the appearance in those who follow Umbra and those who follow Lux. The difference is very faint and refers to the pattern of their marks.” She felt a cheek where her own mark rested.

“So there is that…” Wilson began.

“I’m not a Shadowling!” Willow hissed, “my mum and papa were  _ human _ ! I–I am human. I can’t be a Shadowling...I have never heard of this place before. My parents would have told me…”

Wilson’s expression softened. He carefully draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “You are still Fireheart and my friend. I’m sure your parents had a good reason to keep this from you,” Wilson paused. “Just as my mother had a reason to make this place seem like a story.”

Willow shivered, nestling closer to him. “Am I finally going to hear more about this amazing lady?”

He raised a brow, “Is there a reason why you are determined to know about my mother?”

“Is it wrong to want to know more about her?”

Wilson tensed. After a moment he finally helped her stand as he replied, “Let’s gather the charcoal and then make some food. I think we have enough for spicy chili.”

She rolled her eyes, “Wilson...you know that you can trust me right?”

He froze mid-step. “I do, but some things are best left unsaid. I promise I will tell you about my mother but,” he reached for a bit of charcoal, “I just can’t right now.”

Willow reached out to grasp his hand, “The past will always hurt, but if we continue to ignore it then it will repeat. My mum would tell me that almost daily. My ears are always opened and my lips will remain sealed for what my ears have heard.” She paused for a moment. Carefully, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. “You are all I have left Wilson. I wish there was more I could do to help.”

He returned the embrace, reaching up to smooth down some of her hair with a faint smile. “I promise we’ll get through this together.” After a moment Wilson stepped back.

The smile had finally reached his eyes.

Once back at the camp Willow set about setting the fire again. Chester helped her push a few larger logs close enough to use as benches. He mainly tried to play instead of helping but Willow got the logs where she wanted nonetheless.

“Chester!” Willow laughed as he forced his way onto her lap. She had just settled down close enough to the fire to savor the warmth but far enough in case, the Codex Lunae got damaged. “I promise we will play at first light!”

“We’ll have to run off his energy tomorrow for sure.” Wilson chuckled, sitting down beside her.

She took one of the bowls of chili he was balancing before handing the other to Chester. “Huh,” Willow raised a brow when he ignored it. “Not hungry I guess.”

“I’m not sure if he eats or not, but it never hurts to offer.” He shrugged. 

Willow watched Wilson poked the fire with a twig and quickly got lost to his thoughts. She noticed the way his expression fell. Pulling out the Codex Lunae again, Willow reached for a pencil and some spare sheets of paper. Marion had always told her that he shouldn’t be left to those thoughts for long. Perhaps what she had planned would help.

“Wilson,” she nudged him when she was done writing. Her ears twitched back when silence was met. “Wilbook?” She waved a hand in front of his face, “Hello in there!”

“Hm?” He blinked, turning to her confused.

“There you are!” Willow sighed, “I remembered you said you couldn’t read the Codex so I well…” she held up the papers that were now littered with her handwriting. “Would you like to learn? I taught Marion a long time ago and I figured you might need a distraction at the moment.”

He couldn’t help but stare at her but soon his eyes softened. “That sounds like a brilliant idea, Firelight.”

Willow shifted closer with the papers and the Codex. “I should warn you though,” an impish glean flashed in her eyes as she warned in Shadow Tongue,  _ “It is not an easy feat!” _

“I’m assuming that was a warning but do remember who gives you cookies,” Wilson chuckled.

“How dare you try to keep my precious cookies away from me!” Willow gasped, a hand over her chest in shock. “You wouldn’t dare!” 

Wilson snorted. A hand covered his mouth quickly after but he was still shaking from laughter.

She grinned, “Did you just snort?” Willow giggled. “Do that again!”

“N-no!” Wilson managed to say between giggles. He covered his face as it turned crimson but it was already too late. Whenever he snuck a glance in Willow’s direction, she was making a face that would only make him laugh harder. He snorted again, much to Willow’s delight.

“Ha!” She poked his side, knowing well it would make him laugh more. “You can’t be all grumpy if I keep making you laugh!”

“Mercy!” Wilson’s laughing quickly turned to coughing.

She patted his back a few times. “Breathe,” her voice was surprisingly calm for a change.

Wilson took a shaky breath–holding it for a few seconds, then slowly exhaled. He managed a few more times as his mother taught him before facing Willow. “I’m fine now.” He gave her a lopsided grin, “apologies.”

“I’m just glad to finally hear you laugh like that.” Willow returned the grin. “I’ll admit...I was starting to wonder if I’d ever get you to laugh like that again.”

He reached over to ruffle her hair, “I’m fine now. I promise.” Wilson reached for his own travel notebook and pen. “Shall we begin?”

Willow’s smile grew. “So to start,” she wrote down a few letters. “This is my name and this is yours. The w’s are similar to the m’s so make sure to take note in how the lines go…”


	4. A Frozen Tear

She loathed the cold. The fire was never warm enough while boots were always full of water and Willow Everlight always hated how quiet the world seemed. Winter was always a time of rest, her mother had always repeated whenever Willow complained. A time for the land and seas to replenish what was taken, and a time for families to spend together.

She rolled her eyes, “I still hate silence.”

Nestled in a mound of blankets with her back to the wall Willow scanned the seemly endless pages of notes Wilson had left her. He had caught on to the language better than Marion. Although, he was only good at reading and writing it…

_ “I can't blame him though. Latin seems easier then Shadow Tongue.” _ She mused before sneezing. Pulling the blankets tighter around her, Willow added another log to the fireplace. Another reason why she hated winter…

Wilson and Chester had embarked not too long ago to gather what they could find, which left her to look after the camp and try to beat the cold she caught. It was moments like this where she was grateful they decided to build the cabin before winter fully began. While most of the home was bare, Wilson had his work table nestled in the corner near the fireplace and Willow had her space across from him. A small room to the right was the kitchen which she had been banned from after one too many failed attempts at cooking. They both had a small room to the left that had a bed and a chest for personal items.

She eyed the desk, covered in crumpled up paper. Wilson had had yet another sleepless night.

Scanning the papers once more, she nodded and tucked them away with the others. He was catching on faster than Marion did, which didn’t surprise her. Wilson always had a way of picking up on new things rather well. To her delight, she noticed that he started to use the language when documenting any new findings.

Willow bit her lip as she pulled out the Codex Lunae. There was one section she kept hiding from Wilson… She wasn’t sure what Yvaine was referring to or why, but it made her nervous every time she passed the page.

_ “There is a darkness to this world. One that is far worse than the Nightmare Creatures or even Grue during a hunt. The Knight and They are nothing compared to the woman we just encountered...I–I have never seen Umbra so scared before. Lux has been hiding his emotions as of late which is unlike him. Whatever is lurking beyond the shadows has been enough to keep us from the Constant. I pray she never finds a way out of the chains...for Lux and Umbra’s sake. _

“What is she talking about?” Willow bit the end of her pencil. Flipping around she studied the sketches of various Nightmare Creatures and what appeared to be Grue, a shadowy lady with blood red eyes, but neither entries had new information. “Although…” she flipped back to the page about Grue.

_ “Grue, Umbra’s Knight and closest friend. She works in the dark to protect not only Umbra but Lux as well. Stars above she will have my head if I forget any information! The Knight is always chosen when a new king or queen is crowned and serve solely as the protector. She has claimed to do hunts during the night to end any soul caught in the dark. More times than not said soul is of crooked heart and Grue feels no remorse for ending them…” _

Willow stood, wrapping the blanket tighter around her. She paced to the window flipping back to where most of the spells were kept. There was one she was hoping to find…

“How...odd.” A gentle voice startled her from outside. “I have not seen that book in quite some time. To avoid Maxwell’s wrath, I would keep it from sight.”

Willow swallowed, she spied a pair of blood red eyes hiding in the shadows of the trees before her. She stood in the open doorway, watching the shadowy woman stare back.

“I cannot leave from my place,” Grue sighed. “You must be one of the newer ones?”

“Ye–yes.” Willow held the Codex close to her chest. “You must be Grue?”

She nodded once, “As well as another.”

“What do you mean by that?” She took a step forward without thinking.

“I was fused with another soul after they were brought here. It’s why I’m here before you actually.” Grue glanced to the north. “We have come to ask for your help. There is a soul not far from you that needs help. We have marked them with a rose, so we do not attack them at night.”

Willow paused, her mind racing at what those words could mean…

“Please...I fear the cold will claim them soon.”

“Willow?” Wilson called over to her.

She grabbed her thermal stone before locking eyes with Grue. “Lead the way.”

“Willow!” He swore under his breath before chasing after her. For once Wilson was glad he knew tonight would be a full moon...

The snow was beginning to pick up as she followed after Grue. She felt the bite of the howling winds the farther into the forest Willow ran. Only one thought played over in her head…

_ Marion might be alive! _

Grue paused to allow Willow to catch up every so often. A look of panic passed when she thought she had lost the young Shadowling. “Please,” she ducked under a tree, “we promise they are up ahead.”

Wilson grabbed Willow’s hand, “Willow!” He shouted over the wind. “What has gotten into you?”

He followed her gaze, paling at the sight of Grue hiding beneath the trees.

“She said there is someone who needs our help.” Willow fought to free her arm from his grasp.

“It could be a trick and you are not supposed to be out here in the cold!” He tried to lead her back only to stumble when Willow dug her heels into the snow.

Her eyes held a sense of hope and plea. “Wilson, what if it’s Marion?”

Wilson whirled to face her. “That isn’t possible!”

“How?” She seethed, “How can you be so positive that it couldn’t be him?”

“Because he is  _ gone _ !” Wilson shouted before thinking.

“You thought I was dead and ta-da!”

Wilson stepped closer, grabbing her arms before she bolted away. “Willow Everlight, Marion is gone. He is  _ never _ coming back because...because…” tears stung his eyes.

“Because what?” She hissed.

“Do you remember how some Americans hated immigrants?”

Her eyes went wide. “No…”

“There was an outbreak,” Wilson bowed his head, refusing to meet her stare. “I urged him to go help the others. Apparently, he found a young girl needing help shortly after arriving and was attacked and robbed. I was the one who travelled to bring his body home and I am the one who helped his sister lay him to rest.”

The world slowed to a halt.

Willow’s hands covered her mouth as her knees gave out. “No…” she repeated. Her eyes stung now too as tears mixed with the snow. He couldn’t be gone. Her friend couldn’t be gone…

“Willow I’m–I’m so sorry.” Wilson knelt before her.

She shoved him back. Pain mixed with anger flashed in her eyes, “ _ You should have told me _ !” Willow screamed.

“Save her,” Grue’s voice echoed in the wind as the full moon rose.

Willow stood, glaring at Wilson. “I am going to find this girl.”

He could only nod as he stood himself.

They searched the area just ahead of them. Despite the helpful light from the full moon and the touches Chester had, it was hard to see in the snowstorm. Finally, Wilson stumbled upon what appeared to be a child.

“Willow!” He called out, quickly wrapping the young girl in a blanket he kept with Chester. Wilson noted how light she was and how small. She was still breathing but shaking like a leaf despite the warmth of the blanket and the thermal stone.

Willow circled one more time for anyone else, picking up a tattered backpack and a flower. “No one else. Is she…?”

“We have to act fast but she’s still breathing.”

Once back to camp, Willow held the child close beside the fireplace while Wilson raced around looking for what he needed to treat the injuries. She brushed away some blonde hair and finally smiled. The little one was drowning in the clothes Willow had put her in but the several blankets helped. Wilson carefully offered a cup of cider before moving to the other side of the fire. Willow glared but took the cup.

“Come on, little one,” Willow shifted carefully to help the child drink. “There you go. How are you feeling?”

Blue eyes struggled to stay open. “C–cold.”

Wilson nodded, “I’ll get you some food too.”

“So, does our little snow fairy have a name?” Willow asked as she placed the empty cup aside and fixed the blankets.

“I’m Wendy,” she whispered as she snuggled closer to Willow. “Wendy Carter.”

Willow held her close. “That’s a lovely name. What were you doing out in the cold all by yourself?”

“I wasn’t by myself…” Wendy started.

They heard Wilson yelp in alarm followed by a loud crash from the kitchen.

“I have my sister, Abigail.”

Willow blinked in shock at the sight of the ghost who looked identical to Wendy, looming over Wilson. “Abigail, why not come over here and keep your sister company?” She offered.

_ We need Wendy to warm up more and I need help keeping her awake… _

Abigail settled next to Wendy and Willow, concern in her eyes. “Is my sister going to be okay?”

“I promise.” Willow smiled. “Why not tell us how two lovely little ladies ended up out in the cold?”

Wilson attempted to bring over food and a new thermal stone but froze in place when not only Willow, but Abigail glared at him. He had Chester bring them the items before sitting at his work desk. The pain in Willow’s eyes tore at him…

_ I should have told her sooner. I owed her that much… _

“We were looking for food for Wendy when the snow started.” Abigail spoke as her sister ate. “Then her ankle got caught in some tree roots and she got hurt. We weren’t expecting the cold to hit so fast… Our auntie found us right as Wendy got sleepy.”

“Auntie?” Willow raised a brow.

Wendy nodded, “Auntie Charlie. She is...is inside that shadow lady.”

“She found us and told us to wait while she found help. A few days ago, she did this to me after I,” Abigail stared at her hands. “After I died. We are sorry for the loss of your friend Miss Willow.”

“Thank you and I’m sorry you have to be like this.” She reached out, surprised she could actually smooth down some of her hair. “I promise we will find a way to help you.”

Wilson flipped through the Codex Lunae without much luck. “I’ll figure something out. It seems Yvaine didn’t think to add anything like that.”

Abigail tensed when Willow’s ears twitched back.

“Should I scare him again?” She whispered to Willow.

Willow thought for a moment. “No, don’t be upset with him. This is between us, alright?”

Wendy yawned, snuggling closer to Willow again. “How are you so warm?”

She chuckled, “I’ve always been a bit of a heater. It’s harder to keep that in the winter though.” Willow started to gently rock Wendy once she was certain the child was warm enough again. She sang softly, “sleep my child and peace attend thee–all through the night…”

Abigail nestled close, yawning herself. “Mama would...sing us,” she fell asleep before finishing her train of thought.

Willow kept singing for a bit longer.

“Firelight…” Wilson whispered after what felt like an eternity.

She finally met his gaze. “Don’t,” Willow’s voice held nothing, “I don’t want to hear it. You should have told me.”

“With everything that happened recently I–” He paused. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I know it doesn’t make up for it and I should have told you. Willow, I’m so sorry.”

She watched him before sighing. “Things have been...hectic huh?”

“Mama…” Wendy whimpered in her sleep.

Without thinking, Willow smoothed down her hair and whispered, “I’m here. It’ll be alright.” She blinked, registering what she did.

Wilson could only chuckle. “You always were rather maternal.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Though I suppose Abigail is upset with me because I made you upset?” Wilson moved closer, warming his hands to the fire for a moment. He glanced outside to see that the storm only grew worse.

Willow gestured him over, “Something like that. I’m sure she’ll come around.” Willow yawned.

He sat down beside Willow, blushing when she leaned against him.

“I’m still upset with you, but it won’t change anything...helping the girls comes first.”

Wilson draped an arm around her shoulders with a sigh. “You know…”

Willow hummed as her eyes slide closed.

“My mother loved that song. She would sing it whenever she could.”

“I bet she was amazing.”

He paused, “She was. Come morning I think I’ll have a few stories to tell, deal?”

“Deal,” Willow sighed, drifting off to sleep.

“She really was…” Wilson sighed.


End file.
